From Azkaban with love letters
by Glorioux
Summary: A love trap, a crazy love triangle, 2 Death Eaters and HG. Azkaban's model re-socialization offers a pen-pal program. HG is Antonin's pal. AD trusts Lucius, who also wants HG. Alt univ. Operation Lucid is a go. Assasins, Smut. Temp. on hold. as 6/25
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**, JKR owns HP world, we own the story, this one.

Savva, and Glorioux, were chatting via the web, and wondering of a good plot bunny to nurture and grow together while having fun. It is a join venture. The idea of a Lucius Malfoy _attempting _to do a good deed, and two dark wizards laying a love trap for Hermione grew on us. It is partly Canon complying with some variations. It is not a drama, just a story of two devious wizards, with similar wishes to get the heroine, aka Hermione Granger. However, due to the possessive nature of the contestants, only one will win the heart of Hermione in the end. Let's see how the model re-socialization program is going in the post-war HP world.

It is a joined venture between two women engineers, wanna be authors with overactive imaginations.

* * *

**Prologue**

Lucius visited his second cousin, Antonin Dolohov's Palace in Finland the year Draco was born. Dolohov's mother was Abraxas first cousin. She was French and married into the Dolohov's who were immensely rich, and members of the Muggle royal family. They had hidden after the Bolshevik rebellion (_those animals_), and had travelled only via portkey or apparition ever since. They lived in their Saint Petersburg Palace (Leningrad for a while, imbeciles) after the Revolution, and stayed hidden from Muggles' eyes for years to come, with all their shopping done in Finland and brought back to their home. He did not want to leave the motherland, his Russia, his home. Alas, after years of hiding, the wait was getting too long, and the family moved to Finland for most of the year, spending summers on the Baltic Sea. The pesky Muggles, they came and they went; the trick was patience.

Lucius loved the place, elegant and decadent; he could imagine the old balls. As usual, they discussed pureblood ideology, while eating fish delicacies, and drinking fine champagne. Antonin once again argued the pros and cons of following the Dark Lord, whom he was more than a little leery of. His family had seen already too much, and he was not sure Tom Riddle was playing with a full deck of cards. Riddle reminded him of more than one paranoid Muggle tyrant, and he told Lucius about his feelings. However, Lucius, was not one to give up, ever the consummated sales person, he finally talked his much younger cousin into the bad commitment. The Dolohov and Malfoy joined fortunes and allegiances, would be needed to support the maniac during his destructive quest; a fact that would forever haunt Antonin, and wished to take back if not for the one thing that had changed his life forever.

During the second coming of Snake-man, as Antonin called him, he told Lucius he was fed up and was leaving. He did not want to join the mission to retrieve the prophecy.

"Lucius hear me well, N.O., and no is no. I am going back to my beloved Dacha by the Baltic Sea. There are some fine witches to be shagged, mouths to kiss, bums to squeeze, tits to savour, not necessarily in that order. And what do I have here? The demented Bellatrix, I hate that witch. All the time cupping a feel, she is the second coming of Rasputin, in female form that is. She has bad breath, and she stinks." As he talked, he made expressive gestures which had Lucius laughing hard. The more that he laughed, the more agitated his cousin became, and the more he gesticulated.

"Go ahead and laugh, if it makes you feel better, you are so juvenile, one day you will grow up, but I doubt it, if others only knew the real Malfoy, phew. To make it worse, and is just not fair, you get the nice witch, and I get what, to share rooms with Fenrir, who claims to despise human hygiene, at least while he is here, disgusting, just nasty. Did you know what I find rather sad? I have seen the phony when his is Lord Greyback , he is a much more pleasant being, I wonder why, he loves to pretend his evil lore persona. I find it boring."

Antonin was looking at the fire while drinking a glass of champagne and snacking on caviar blintzes, "good sturgeon, not too bad." He looked every inch the aristocrat he was. "You can fight if you like; it is no longer my fight. I will fuck any pretty mudblood. Blood is not important if the witch is the right one. My grandmother was Anastasia Romanov; she was of better stock that all the witches in London, and a mudblood. Well, she was a _blueblood,_ a name as stupid as the name _mudblood_, everyone's blood is red." He paused and drank a glass of bubbly in one sip.

It is high time to find a wide hip little witch, to bear Dolohov babies, and fill the old nest of gentry with screams of joy; with happy children's voices talking and laughing, instead of sobs of crying, angry ghosts. My witch will have long, curly, brown hair with specks of dried wheat, all the way down to her waist, something to hold on to in fits of passion. She will have doe eyes, and tits that fit in my hand. A sodden pussy crying for mercy, one where I can pound without remorse and I can drink at my heart's content. A peach shaped bum I can adore, bite, chew, and love on my own.

Lucius, my beloved cousin, do you understand me? I am not going to fight this fight; if I keep at it, I will probably be sent to Azkaban for it. I know these things, and today's name is _prison_. You go to your mission, and I go home. Send an owl, stop by on your way to Azkaban, I have been told is located by the North Pole. Ta, ta, au revoir, auf wiedersehen." He stood up and was walking towards the door. "I am going to pack, and will be gone by the time you are back, if you are lucky."

"Stop for a second, please take a seat." Lucius pleaded, argued, begged, cried, threatened, even stomped his feet, and finally threw him a proverbial bone. 'Mr. Sneaky' himself looked away a bit disinterested, he twisted his lips, made a smacking sound with his lips twice, and with his index finger hit his cheek twice. "Too bad you are leaving," he shook his hand derisively once, and then quite loud, he sighed twice.

"You don't fool me Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, you should have been a road player, and even made a fortune." Antonin remarked followed by an embittered chuckle.

"It is regrettable. It really is, to think I just figured out. Never mind it is too late. I know of a young witch, not quiet ripe, but soon, who fits your very description. If I was six, seven, eight, nine, ten years younger," pausing for effect, "and if I wasn't in love with Cissa, I would go for her myself. I would also try, if the young chit would accept my advances. Hmmm… Too bad... she fits, too damn bad, she fits your description to the T, forget it, you are leaving, adieu." He say goodbye waving his hand with studied disinterest.

Lucius sat back, put his leg over the armrest, as if he did not have a care on the world. He poured himself some more champagne, picked up a plump black olive and pop it in his mouth, then picked up a little cheese puff, and chewed it slowly, nothing to chew; looking away to nowhere in particular. He was itching to look back and check on Antonin, he did not know if the arse was still there. If he was going to end up in Azkaban, he wanted good company (damn it), and he did not want be the only one pouring money into this venture.

Three minutes later, he heard a body plop in the next chair, a sigh, two sighs, and a glass of champagne was put on a table with melodic peal, "don't fuck with me Lucius, I know your play acting, your tactics have hardly changed since we were children. Now who is this beauty we are talking about it? If you have lied, or if you are planning to lie, I will not be forgiving. I will tell Cissa about the little Hungarian witch during our last mission, the one with the looks of a nursing cow. Ah, and the horrendous screaming, "More, more, spank me, harder, harder," and let's not forget, "let me bite your beautiful tits." It sounded like some randy foolish wizard was too horny and forgot a silencing charm?" Antonin looked at his nails projecting extreme boredom. There was a difference here, Antonin was not play acting, and he was fed up with Lucius and his manipulative antics.

Lucius turned towards Antonin in a rage, his eyes blazing, "you would not dare to betray your own flesh and blood? She will leave me and take half of my fortune, and for your information, I am not lying. Wait for a second." Lucius knew he better come up with something, he knew Antonin, he was a vindictive Russian, and he was a bad enemy, plus he still believed in honour, really, that was a tad passé. Although, Lucius was not afraid of very many people, he did not want to be in the receiving end of Antonin's wrath. Nope, he had been witness of it once, or twice, and his cousin knew some wicked dark magic, some never heard east of Russia.

"Dobby or Mitzypan do bring me the Prophet from two weeks ago, the one with Draco's school mates, the one with Mr. Potter, and his other two friends." Lucius called.

A house-elf appeared with a pop in the air. He was carrying several Daily Prophets, they all pictures of the golden trio. One particular, full colour photograph showed one Miss Hermione Granger's re-published Yuletide Ball, and two others also showed her in action with her chocolate curls flying in the air, and her defiant face, her fine bone facial structure was portrayed in glorious colours, enough to be admired. Her rosy lips and the fire in her eyes made the two wizards long for the same thing. Antonin's face, changed as he looked at the photos and a beautiful smile brightened up his face. His half-closed, full of lust, light grey-eyes, caressed the photos over and over. Even Lucius had to accept that Antonin was a very handsome wizard, and that he could compete against him any old day. He hated that.

Lucius was not far behind Antonin, in the admiration for the little mudblood. However, the lusty feelings left him in a second; she was too young. He was not interested, at least not for a long while. He was married, he sought immediate gratification; he could not afford long chases; he did not go for children, it was disgusting. Thus a very young, powerful chit like the mudblood needed a long time investment.

He chuckled. "So this is Hermione Granger, the tooted mudblood, what is she? Fifteen, sixteen, I can wait. I would have preferred for her to be around nineteen or twenty, no younger than that. I want babies right away, after the first go around. I love pregnant witches; I could tell you some stories." He paused all dreamy, "oh, yes, she is one exquisite little witch." Lucius was sticking out his chest, his chin up in the air, a white peacock, and his eyes expressing the feeling of victory.

"And, how do you propose I land this little kitten, the sweet koshechka?" asked Antonin quite hopeful. He was already planning their honeymoon, the décor for their boudoir, which Faberge necklace his little witch will receive as a first gift, her dishabille for the honeymoon, the trousseau made by that French Russian magical designer in la Rue de la-, the colours for the children's room. ...His mind was running wild; he had already gone through the first weeks of shagging to the pitter-patter of little feet. His passionate heart had fallen in love at first sight and for the first time on his life.

"We will cross that bridge when we get to it. If the need arises, then I will help you 'secure' it by whatever means necessary. What do you say? Besides we are winning, I am sure the Dark Lord will give you her little bum as a reward." They both broke out in joyful peals of laughter, and left the early, a much too early celebration as things turned out.

* * *

**Late November 2000,  
Ministry of War, and prison reform  
Committee in charge off the 'accelerated re-socialization' of war offenders. **

"Ms. Granger, undoubtedly, your programs to improve Azkaban have been a great success. Donations on the neighbourhood of 10 million galleons have turned the former hell hole into a model for the entire wizarding world, we are now afraid some of the prisoners might want to stay, they actually have more opportunities there than outside." Said the old, stuffy Lord, one of the members of the newly formed committee, and his comment brought the required number of laughs.

"Yes, Ms. Granger, or is it already Mrs. Weasley?" Asked solicitous Lucius, knowing the answer, after all he had sent the little hot witch into the idiotic blood traitor's hotel room, and had paid for the photographers outside. He would be dammed if he was to break more promises to Antonin.

He did not like breaking promises, and Antonin had landed twice in prison, all because of Lucius' advice. Well, the second time, because the stubborn Russian wizard had insisted in watching the curly hair witch's back every time he had a chance. Over his gallant actions, he had gotten both, he and Lucius under Cruciatus more than once. Moreover, to protect her, and her friends, how exhausting, he had not escaped while he had time. And if he was right, the young witch would eventually wage the battles needed to get Antonin out Azkaban, and into her bed. A promise was a promise, or was it?

About their vows, too bad he had made them, Cissa had shown her true colours after he was released from Azkaban. Upon his return, a surprise was the new headquarters of Snake-Face at the Manor. The silly chit was all chummy with the demented maniac. The Dark Lord had the gall to take over the master room, and his wife. The slime ball was sleeping with the two sisters. A confirmed fact, which Cissa claimed, it had not been her fault; "he made me."

Yes sure, made her? In any case, Lucius was already checking his options, and Andy was looking mighty fine, and quiet the beautiful witch, but she was in mourning. She was prettier than Cissa, smarter than Bella, and hell of a lot nicer. And as an added bonus she actually had a larger bum and tits that the two sisters combined. Her puritan muggle living reflected in her appearance, he would go and check on her today, brotherly love. Too bad, she was not Ms. Granger. He could not get her out of his mind, the fact that Antonin wanted her, increased her allure ten fold.

It was such a sacrifice, he wanted Granger for himself, and Draco wanted the same, so it was better not to fight for a witch with his son. He just had to be careful, and hide his involvement from Draco. The young wizard would not soon forget this infraction.

Draco had been begging him for years to allow him to stake a claim on the witch; matter of fact since the first day on Hogwarts. He had kept the owl from that day, you could see the Malfoy spirit across the scroll, "Father, I met the strangest of witches. I am wondering if the pureblood thing is that important, and if you would allow me to make her acquaintance. Father, consider the impact; it might be a hard blow for Harry Potter who has refused my friendship. Imagine - he is best friends with her, your loving son, Draco Lucius Malfoy."

Clever little bugger, learning the fine art of manipulation, but the answer was no then, and no now, for different reasons each time. Besides, if she was not for Antonin, she was for Lucius_. Sorry Draco, my loving son. Father comes first; he is the one with the fat purse_, thought Lucius.

Too many variables, he was getting a headache, let Antonin have his wish. He had been pinning after the hot thing for over three years, and hard ones they had been. Seeing the young witch nearly killed by Bella, mishandled by Greyback, tortured, beaten, kissed by that ragamuffin Weasley, too many affronts. So for the plan, "Ms. Granger, I would like to suggest a pet project of mine. As you already know the reason I am sitting in this committee is because my two unfortunate stints at Azkaban."

He paused and averted his eyes down, in a sign of contrition. Then putting on a face which expressed serious remorse, he continued. "The last one, err, tour was a day in a Deluxe Hotel compared to the hell hole in 1997. You have single handed, with your visionary recommendations, improved and made liveable our failed prison system." He paused for a sip of water and survey the impact of his words around the room, only positive body language.

"It has been particularly positive on our young people, who not only have finished their education, but also are now enrolled in university classes. Private rooms, with complete washrooms, no dementors, a balanced diet, tea and juice always available, small paid jobs for pocket money, family visits, conjugal visits, a small store for sundries, libraries, sports, mental-healing, medi-witches, inside sports, a nursery for the babies born to female inmates, and so on, it is short list of the amazing achievements in just 27 months."

At this the entire committee's 60 members, plus all the reporters and onlookers attending, broke out in applause. Kingsley, Arthur Weasley, Minerva, and sitting amongst the public leaded the encore. Their faces were all beaming with pride at the big change she had worked for with so much effort. So many young and old had died that it was important to quickly rehabilitate the prisoners. Too many of the young men were still away, and many of their most productive and influential wizards creating a financial stress on the relatively small UK Wizarding community, it was good for everyone.

Hermione, number one sucker, had tears in her eyes. She was highly emotional. At least some of her lifetime efforts were appreciated. Damn Ron, after she had given him her love, her first sex, her trust; after she had chosen him over Harry, and he went to bed with the first groupie that invited him, just 10 days before their wedding.

"Hermione please forgive me. I was set up, she was nearly naked and sat on my lap, I am just a young wizard, and you had cut me off for the last month waiting for the wedding, what was I to do?" Cried Ron and she had nearly taken him back. After all she had the dress, the reception, the entire thing planned. But then the anger arose after seeing his triumphant smirk.

She had tried to hex him, but Harry stopped her on time. "I told you, he is scum, and now I am not free to marry you, Ginny is pregnant and I am not even sure it is mine, it is your fault, you have ruined both of our lives."

She could not believe that Harry was blaming her for shagging Ginny, and leaving it up to the witch to take the contraception. Hermione had told him to be careful more than once, Ginny wanted to catch him at all cost, and she had shared this with Hermione. And now he was no longer talking to her, because in one more month he would have to walk down the aisle with a witch he did not love. Not that she care for him any longer. It had been a young girl's love.

That night at the Department of Prophecy, she had seen the love of her live, ok, not seen him, but detected him, better she had the snog of her lifetime complete with a delightful embrace. Was it Lucius? He was very handsome, but she did not feel the heat coming from him. She loved Ron enough. He made her want him. However, never with that knickers' sodden sensation she had felt when the faceless Death eater had drug her into the dark. Mr-in the dark-dark eater, had given her the kiss of her life, while holding her very close and grinding his very hard prick. Now, she knew it had been an erection, against her belly, and before moving away, he had murmured something like "go and check it?" She had wracked her brains for years why had he told her to go and check. And where and what exactly should she check, was it a clue, a tip?

He had been quite tall, but not as broad as Lucius. Thinking about the kiss, the way he smelled, of a very expensive fragrance, always made her want to shag. Come to think of it, she had once again detected that cologne, where? Oh well, maybe she should just accept the date with the ferret; he was looking so fine these days.

"Miss Granger, Miss Granger, are we day dreaming?" asked one very interested Lucius Malfoy, Merlin if the young chit was not looking aroused, he looked around and did not see anyone. Nah, it was his self-overheated imagination.

She smiled and shook her head - _not_. Maybe it was Lucius Malfoy, too bad he was such a rotten wizard, he was rather hot.

"I have a plan to further improve our inmate's lives, some are quite lonely; they are single; many are totally alone, or have lost the part of their families. Moreover, they don't have a witch to love or to wait for them, to give them hope. Of course, there are others who are not looking for love, merely an intellectual companion," Lucius stopped; he was clever, he could also 'join' the program, and correspond with this bright witch.

"So, I was saying, I would like to take a page from Muggle ideas, as you have with the magnificent prison reform. It is one of having members of our society pick up from a random name from a list of prisoners that fit their profile, age, position and otherwise. This a little variation, we would not want our young, respectable witches ending up with some unsavoury character. It would be one more step in rehabilitation. I will personally manage the program, with a volunteer or two; we could give it a one year window?" He looked at her with the biggest, most charming smile he could muster, while keeping his fingers crossed. He did not show excessive interest, no sense in making her mistrustful.

There was a standing ovation at his proposal, of course - it was orchestrated. Lucius had paid a few wizards and witches to applaud at all his statements.

Hermione's ultra compassionate and romantic heart, full of yearning to save the world and to change everyone, overruled the flashing red warning light on her brain, "Hermione, see who is proposing, be leery, check it out."

"Lord Malfoy, it is such a good idea, and I will volunteer to be the first to join the program, I would like to be the example for many." Everyone stood up and gave a standing ovation; brooding Hermione's heart welcomed the accepting applause, and saw herself as the rescuer of lonely death eater's lives.

It was Lucius' turn to be speechless; this was an unexpected bounty. Later, he would have time to convince her to take two convicts under her wing, instead of one. Time to arrange a visit to Azkaban to coordinate, and talk to the Pilot program wizards, he already had a list on his mind. He will try to talk her into accompany him; to give some hope to Antonin. He had an idea; it would be his good deed to play the matchmaker. Maybe, he could shave off some years of the afterlife punishment that was sure to come. This was a fine day.

"Miss Granger, would it be asking too much to accompany me? To Azkaban, and talk about the pilot program to the inmates; some are your former schoolmates. I am sure it would fill them up with renewed interest to join all the programs; after they see such a lovely and famous witch taking personal interest in the program." He sounded hopeful, but not pushy.

Immersed in the fervour of the applause, the lioness cub walked straight into the snake pit."I think it is a great idea, a show of support," the room occupants went crazy, many of them had relatives in prison, they had supported the young witch with money and with words, if she was to inject new hope in their loved ones, She was a hero. Some were making plans to have their son, or their nephew to be the one exchanging letters with the influential witch, what a feather on anyone's cap. Others, including Kingsley, were planning ahead to groom as the next Minister of Magic. The ones wishing for Hermione's hand in marriage, for their relation, were wondering on how to approach Lucius and get his favour.

Lucius heart was doing a little victory dance, _to be alone with her planning for this, hmm. I would make Antonin so happy to see her there; and _Lucius as well, life was smiling again.

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**Next Chapters **: make plans for the program, visit the Azkaban, Harry's melt down, Draco finds out, Hermione's first letter. Hermione is in love. Now for the surprise: Since this is a joined cooperation between Savva and Glorioux. Savva has graciously volunteered to be the voice of Antonin, she is perfect for the role, with her literary knowledge and her inherited advantage. We are working the plot together. Savva, my favourite Latvian Witch.

Reviews are deeply appreciated. It would be good to know if we are in the right track.


	2. ID Theft, Operation Lucid

**Disclaimer**; All Harry Potter characters, locations, and other recognizable places and people are the wonderful creations and brain children of a master quill: Ms. **J.K.R**. I write as a form of personal punishment. I do not get paid for this quasi-writing. The story is mine; respect and don't steal it. I like to play with her toys. If you are a minor, thanks but no thanks, please leave this page immediately. This story contains material not suitable for minors. Way too much smut. Respect the authors, please?

**Notes:** **THIS IS FICTION, a product of the imagination. It is A/U. Conforms to all the books and DH with some changes. EWE. And of course introduces new characters, of sorts.  
**

**Thanks for all the reviews. **The letter written by Antonin was authored by one of his compatriots. A witch from his beloved homeland, her author's name for FFnet is Savva, a great writer and good friend. This work is dedicated to her. Thanks to loyal and faithful reviewers, especially to Irmorena, gracias chica. To all the hispanicos alla en la red, muchas gracias por leer mis cuentos the fanfic. To all my American brethen, thanks very much. And to each and ever reader thanks, and blessings from above.

* * *

**Last time.**

Lucius heart was doing a little victory dance, to be alone with her, planning for this, hmm. I would make Antonin so happy, to see her there. And Lucius as well, life was smiling again.

**At the Malfoy Manor**

**Plans and memories**

Lucius sat in his favourite chair, with chilled glass of German Crystal-Weizen beer, and thought of the tactical plans for his 'Lucid Operation'.

He was starting to see the maxi appeal exuding the petite witch, but he had two, maybe three dilemmas. He called for a house-elf; Mitzypan came. "Master?"

"Mitzy, could you bring me one of those muggle books to write on? The ones that Draco bought for the office, there are stored in the supplies room?" He was about to wave her to leave.

"Ah, and a quill, maybe two, the self wetting ones, wait, I want a little repast, nothing big. Perhaps, a few crisps make them sorted, soda wafers, thinly sliced Serrano ham, beluga with crème fraiche, served on pumpernickel and rye toasted medallions." He paused "That might be it. But-"He thought, pulled out his wand out of habit and tapped his cheek.

Mitzy rolled her eyes while she looked at her gangly feet.

" Mitzy, tell him to add a few Greek olives in a bed of extra virgin Italian olive oil and maybe some cubes of goat cheese with cracked green pepper corn sprinkled lighty; a few sun dried tomatoes drenched in medium olive oil, and raspberry flavoured white balsamic vinegar; nothing complicated, and if it is not too much trouble, another beer, and a bottle of medium Pellegrino lightly chilled, with a slice of lime."  
Mitzy just stood, playing with the embroidered of the smocks designed by Pretzel, waiting for the next batch of little wishes.

"Hmm, maybe a few thin shavings of fresh parmesan cheese, do tell Kookie to use his discretion, and his genius. And if he wants to add a couple more things, to go ahead, although, I am not really hungry. Ah, I want tea in two hours, not heavy; I am trying to fit in my new breeches."

"Not if you keeps this light eats," murmured Mitzy with a tsk, as she left with a POP.

Lucius heard, and was not happy, _I wonder if I am looking fat, _he thought with a worried look in his eyes.

In a few minutes, she came back, "Axels brings you the tray in a minute, I be gone for yus quill,"

"Mitzy, wait, do you find me nicer, a more considerate wizard, friendlier, you know, since the war?"

"Sir, you is my little wizard, I raises you, you always nice." That was one smart answer; however, not the one he wanted to hear. What else could one expect from silly elves?

"Yes, you are clever, duly noted. However, I want the truth, am I an easier Master? What do you hear others say about me? I will bring you one pound of marzipan next time I go to Toledo." He was not above bribes, the world magical or Muggle revolved around them.

Mitzy's eyes a little more bugged that usual at the thought of gorging herself in the delectable sweet. The mixture acted as a drug on her metabolism. One that made her happy, that made her forget the terrible times when those bad wizards invaded the Manor. What terrible times, for all of them. Three of her brethren had been killed, one fed to the snake.

Besides the calming, cheering effect, the sweet was plain delicious. Her magic had never been able to recreate the taste of the Marzipan from the place where Lucius bought it. Thus, she decided to be nearly truthful to her most favourite, untrustworthy dark wizard.

He did not want to hear the real truth, and she was in a bad position, if she lied, he would know it, and would be mad. Ok, at least with the truth but he would get over faster, after he made a million excuses why he had acted certain way.

"Dobby said you was very nasty. But he was my cousin's child. She used to drink the kitchen wine even when she was carrying Dobby. And many agreed with him." Lucius face did not show any emotions, but he was dying to know who thought he was nasty; he had promised Mitzy he would not be mad at her, as for the others, hmmm.

He would wait a couple days, and then would bribe her again. He would get the names of the bad elves who talked behind his back. Except he did not want to pay higher salaries, which would most definitely happen, if he punished anyone of them. The ungrateful, greedy rats, they would go straight to the House-Elves union, whose seat was set up by one Miss Granger. The little trouble maker, oh well.

He had to buy several dozen cupboards, spanking new, (bought in IKEA with discount coupons, it was Severus idea). They were allowed to be off 6 hours every 6 days. They were paid 1 galleon, 13 sickles and 2 knuts, per week. He was going broke. He had 22 house elves, twenty two mouths to feed, even if they just ate scraps, their favourite. Did they think he was made out Galleons or what?

"Now, nobody says you is nasty." She looked at him with a look that spoke volumes of an extreme sense of accomplishment.

"And, what else, continue" Asked Lucius, waiting for the, "now everyone thinks you are the Best master, a good Wizard, etc."

"And, that is it. And I needs to go and help Pretzel, Master Draco needs help with the robes. He goes tonight with a young witch, maybe a date. We is hoping to having babies soon, for me to take care of." That was Mitzy's proud response. She wanted to leave as soon as possible, Master looked miffed.

Lucius radar went up right away, when he heard the words _Draco+Date_.

"Ah, wait there, pray tell, who is the date?" Lucius asked feigning only a slight interest. He used the quill to clean imaginary dirt under his once by daily, manicured nails, while looking at the elf's expression.

"Master Lucius, I don't tell on the young Master, but I don' lies." Mitzy was afraid to see Master's reaction; she should have kept her mouth quiet. She wanted to ask if she was getting her sweets.

"Mitzy, no games," Lucius held the beer glass and looked irritated. He was certain not like the possible answer, although not for the reason the house-elf thought.

"Master," Mitzy was wringing her long fingers on the edge of her designer towel. "It is a Missy Granger. She is one nice witch, we gets galleons because of her. She is Muggle born, but very pretty. I is going." Pop and she was gone.

Lucius beer was no longer tasty. He was never going to be able to eat the light repast he had ordered. Probably just a bite of two, he sighted. Draco was now his First Item/Problem, to be considered tonight. He would need to dissuade Draco from this date, but how? Or let him go, and boycott the date? The second one sounded less problematic, and he would get to stop Draco from, from, what? Having a good time?

He loved Draco, he was the only being he had ever loved, and he had made a promise to a cousin, even if a second cousin, who landed in Azkaban because Lucius' bad advice. Well, he also loved Antonin, just not as much.

Lucius started the travel along his now daily path, downhill on the Lucius' pity party (LPP) road. It was the one reason that he was not longer welcome at social gatherings.

**Step one. Self-flagellation:** "_Oh Lucius, recognize it. Yes, I do_, _I am a walking bad omen, Antonin is in jail and Severus six feet under. well but for only a day. Just until they figured out, that he had been left on stasis by Ms. Granger and Draco. They buried all the dead very fast_." Lucius was talking to himself, internally.

A most disturbing smile was painted on the blond man's face. Come on, it had been truly hilarious to see Severus face when he found out that he had been buried alive. At thinking this, his face fell down.

**Step two. Recrimination**: "You see what a terrible friend you are. Oh what a jewel of a Wizard, not dark, ultra dark, devoid of light. Laughing at Severus buried alive." Lucius continued his LPP.

He paced the room a few times, where was Mitzy with the writing pad? He waited, ruminated, and then had finally decided, just to keep an eye on Draco. Time to press the Greengrass chit's marriage contract, he was a little sorry to pull that one on Draco, but it was his duty as the only son.

**Step three. At the end of the day, n****othing is your fault**. Lucius' self absolution, or justification for any bad wishes, wrong doings, you name it, had begun. It was exhausting, first telling everyone how awful he was, beating himself for it, and then taking it all back. So step three was really, Or you. are never at fault. Commonly known as the third step on LPP, that was the name given to the boring routine by Severus, and Draco had seconded the motion.

Lucius had paid his full dues. He had to marry Narcissa, when he had really wanted Andromeda. Now it was Draco's time to sacrifice. Because if the witch was not for Antonin, and she rejected him, then Lucius was the next one on line, in simple terms, Draco had not yet paid his dues.

Sad to know, his worry was for not. Yes, Draco had a date with Ms. Granger, but not the kind that the matchmaking elves thought. It was not of an amorous sort, far from it, but more about that later.

There were still two other items of concern, in reference to Operation Lucid, for Cupid, his name for this good deed.

The second item had to do with the 'false Antonin'. With Anton Minsky.

**

* * *

**

**The other Antonin, Anton the half-cousin/brother**.

Antonin was furious when he met his second cousin, Anton Minsky right in the UK. The year was 1980. No sooner that he had apparated at the Malfoy's Manor, that Anton had arrived with Voldemort's invitation to a meeting. Seeing his half-brother or second cousin, take a pick, announcing his entrance as Antonin Dolohov, made him see double. His hot temper boiled, and it took Lucius the good part of a week to calm him down.

It was not a little surprise, to discover Anton had taken over his name, and by the way, had been a staunch supporter of Snake-Face since the start of WW1, with a chain of wrong doings under his belt. So when Anton was taken to Azkaban, Antonin cloaked himself in a cloud of anonymity. He grew a beard, long hair, and coloured his hair light brown. During the next years, he continued to work for the Dark Lord under a cloud of anonymity.

He finally decided to give it up on 1996, the same day when the Death Eaters had escaped Azkaban. Amazed to see what Azkaban had done to Lestrange and to Anton (Antonin) made him want to go back and start living. Anton had earned a full criminal CV, as one of the most dangerous of the Dark Lord's followers and killer. He had many deaths to his name. Antonin was not guiltless; he did his share of badness, hunting Muggles, killed during scrimmages, destroyed property and some other bad deeds, he was a death eater after all.

**Anton**.

Growing up, there were rumours, at the schloss, that he was really Antonin's half brother. Antonin's father had brought the young Anton to live with his second wife and his other children, at the age of three. The sad little child had come to the then, Leningrad Palace, as the son of a cousin and her husband. Apparently, Muggle soldiers had killed the parents. It happened during a 'purge' of the town, by orders of the tyrant who ruled the Soviet Union with a hand of iron.

Anton was twelve years older than Antonin. He was a student, and later graduate of the Durmstrang Institute; he was extremely bright and as others, a practiser of the dark magic. Some older friends had told Antonin, that Anton had cursed his stepmother with a dark bleeder hex, when she birthed him. His father was absent at the time, visiting an old chum, at the Dragon reserve in Romania.

Antonin remembered his cousin as a sour, angry teenager, during his summer, and Holiday's visits. Anton was disliked by all; he was mean and cruel to everyone around. He was always jealous of the love their father showed Antonin, maybe rightfully so. The older man was cruel and saw Anton as an inferior, the child of a country witch, often made fun of him, and his "inferior" blood.

Anton thought of the young heir, as the spoiled and arrogant Antosha, with blood less pure than his. After all, his maternal grandmother was said to be Great Duchess, Anastasia Romanov, one of the whores of Rasputin, the mad mudblood. He did not know the Romanov family were at least half bloods, and maybe more, but had not been trained in their magic.

Antonin had three older sisters, his brother died during the muggle war, some kind of stomach infection. The youngest girl, was a few years older than him.

Anton had deeply resented the birth of a boy. His hopes to be declared the heir, and his uncle/father's only son had gone out the window with the birth of his half-brother.

Indeed, when Antonin's father had died in a duel, over a woman, he had left Anton a considerable inheritance. However, the bulk of all property, vaults, and the tittles went to his heir. As for the daughters they received amounts comparable to Anton's. He even left him a nice dacha, near Antonin's; it was not as grand. The nail in Anton's hatred coffin was to be deprived of his rightful last name. However, when Antonin and his sisters, had agreed that it been a great injustice, offering him the name, he turned down.

"The name coming from you is meaningless. If my father had given me his name, the tittles, and the rights of heir would be mine." For Anton was all or nothing.

Antonin had the belief that being born in the aristocracy made him better than most. His father had died when Antonin was 10, and he went to live with his older sister.

Anton left to be Voldermort' follower right after his school was completed, and since the start, he had changed his name to Antonin. He had spent years in Azkaban under his alias.

By the time Lucius met him, Anton under his new alias, was during his induction as a death eater, there was nothing to be done. Lucius knew he was not Antonin, and decided to hide the knowledge from his cousin, the real Antonin.

Anton had threatened to injure Narcissa, if Lucius let others know. So an agreement was made. Anton, was mean as a snake; moreover, the rabid pureblood advocate, was determined to make a name for himself with Voldemort. He saw himself gaining a high position in a world ruled by his master.

Once that Antonin joined the death eaters, that there was no need to let the entire wizarding world know of the 'second' Antonin. Some gain might be derived since they looked almost as twins, if not for a few more wrinkles and less hair of the older of the two.

Anton had no blood ties of any kind to Lucius, and also hated him for being 'privileged.' Voldemort had indeed found the similarity between his two servants convenient, and a good tactical advantage, to be used against the Order.

**Antonin **

His father was born in 1920, and married at the age of nineteen in Paris. The war has just started, and Europe was about to embark in a nasty muggle war. His mother had given him the name of a friend's family, members of the Czar's court to look them up. They had two daughters, named Maria and Carlota.

The beautiful sisters were around 9 years apart. One blond, the other a brunette, he married the blond, Maria; she was three years older than him. He fell madly in love with her. She was almost a carbon copy of her name sake, the Great Duchess Maria Romanov. They lived in Britain, thinking it might be safer. It was but not for long. Maria had twins and a second child during the first two years of their marriage. Their love was reckless, and wild as strong river after as storm.

She was killed in 1943 during an air raid, not by a bomb, but by some zealous muggle. He had talked to her, and she did not speak English, she spoke French and a Russian. "A bloody spy, we have us'ere a bloody kraut, I will take care of your sorry arse right 'ere," Two shots were fired and drowned in the air raid call/s deafening sound.

And the idiot killed her with a shot straight to the heart; she did not even see it coming. Her husband had lost her going inside the shelter; he had the two younger children in a perambulator and one in his arms. She was pregnant again, and got separated from them in the rush to get in. He did not find her until after the alarm was over.

On 1951, he had married Carlota who had been helping them. She was twenty six. Carlota told her mother, Anastasia, whose heart was broken. "Don't marry someone who does not love you. You deserve better than that."

"Mother, I loved him since the day he arrived with his valises in our villa. I was but fourteen, and have not loved anyone since. We have been lovers since two years after she died. I am sick to see go away to be with his witches, because I am afraid to have sex and get pregnant."

His grandmother, Anastasia had told Antosha the family history when he was a young lad. She wanted him to remember. "Antosha, your father was loyal to your Mom, and maybe he learned to respect her. We all pay for the sins of my ancestors. Rasputin was our curse. I have lived to see everyone I loved murdered, each one of them. My grandchildren seem protected, the exception. Thus, watch for Anton, he was twelve when you were born. I still think he cursed Carlota and she bled to dead."

Anastasia Romanov, she was seventeen when she married, the young dashing count and wizard. He had been a hussar, an officer in the Czar's army. With his magic he was able to save her, but he had been too late to save the rest of the family. They used polyjuice on one of the dead servants, to fool anyone that would come along. They hid in Paris, he permanently changed some of her features, and her hair colour.

1969, in an unplotted palace, at Leningrad, still in charge of the assassins, the Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanov, Matriarch to a line of powerful dark wizards, died in her mother land. As she left this world, she saw her father and mother, and her three sisters and brother waiting for her. They were all happy and smiling, dressed in tennis clothes, their dogs trotted along them.

Back on her dead bed, her beloved Antosha closed her eyes, standing by him were her other three grandchildren, and 7 great-grandchildren. She smiled as she left this realm; the Romanovs still lived, and had a home in her beloved Russian.

**Antonin the night before Operation Lucid lands at Azkaban**

While Lucius was still annotating his notebook, Antonin, was sitting at Azkaban's new library, drinking hot tea from a samovar. I had been donated by a friend of his family to the recreation room. Actually five were donated, with different leaves and brews, so many of the staff, guards, and prisoners enjoyed the good brew.

He dammed the day he had left the crafty Lucius Malfoy ruin his life. How come he had failed to tell him he had a virtual doppelganger, or at least that someone had not been blind, and could have seen the obvious difference between the half brothers?

Anton was good looking, but his eyes had no warmth. Besides Anton's face was aged, plus his eyes were not even the same colour. Anton was balding, and his hair was darker. True, as they had said at the Wizengamot, he might have been using a glamour charm, to make others think there were two of them. What better alibi could he have conceived?

He should have stayed at his now renovated palace, at the once again St Petersburg. Ah, his beloved city, the ballet, the museums, the night life. It was all coming back.

Lucius, Lucius, he was just too clever. He had thrown him the bone. One, he had always wanted to chew, a sweet witch. She really was his beautiful and tender golybushka (dove).

Lucius, was a git, and an awfully rotten wizard, who had offered him a dream, a witch to behold. He had tasted her lips while hiding behind the mask. Voldemort had wanted him to keep his identity hidden. Anton could kill, maim and do a lot of harm, while Antonin was seen in a different place, doing not much harm. Making sure he was seen.

He had screwed himself royally; nobody believed there were two Antonins, just dark magic, just great.

As for his love, he had kissed her that night, and for getting distracted Anton escaped, and he was the one going to Azkaban. No only that, Anton had nearly killed the young witch, all his fault. Having to hide behind the mask, not thinking clearly had let down his guard. Right on time for their new muggle computer age, all the magical signatures saved for comparison, so the one in record was his, not Anton's.

Was the kiss worth it? Hell yes, he was a romantic. He did not consider magic dark, and instead individually evil depending on the intent. He was made to love with hot passion. Her taste, he could still taste it. He hand not held the witch very tight. She was wearing her sexy Muggle clothes, and he was able to discern every curve, her soft breasts against his chest. He was not too forward; she was but a child that time.

He barely touched her lips; he just wanted a taste of the future. He wanted her protected until she was ready. What a laugh, tortured a few times, and who knows what else, what a protector he had turned out to be.

He was as his father with the only witch he loved. It had not been Antonin's mother, but his first wife. Antonin, was called Antosha by his family, and was the name Anastasia Romanov, his grandmother used to call him when he was a baby. Of course her name was not Anastasia Romanov at the time. Her name had been Catherina -. .

So it was, like father like son. He had fallen in love with Hermione that evening at their first kiss. He vowed to protect her and save her at all costs. His idea was to court her and marry her once his name was cleared, fat chance. Nearly three years after and he was still rotting in prison. Some judge must have believed him for he had five years left. Too long, he would not make it.

He was in love, he wanted to write the letter, he had one day.

He sat and wrote the first letter to his bride to be. Traced some symbols with his hand looking quite innocent. He kissed the letter several times, once with great passion while nobody watched, covering his face and the paper with his now very long hair. He read once more, and then took it to the desk of the review committee, translation, censors.

He saw them reading it, and writing over it, here, and there._...Damn, hope they didn't take out much . I hope they don't find the unseen charm. No, no, wand over it, next pass, the same, and great it is safe. I hope she can read the clues. I cannot wait for her letter. No matter, this was the first go. After this no censures, _thought Antonin.

**The letter**

Good day, my Lady,

Forgive me for tarnishing your day with my writing. Hope I am not distracting you too much from your duties and your loved ones.

My lady, allow me introduce myself, although I am not allowed to introduce myself properly – not allowed to take your delicate, little hands in mine and graze their softness with my lips. I am denied the right of a gentleman, of a high born wizard, of my birthright, to kneel and to bow my head before your beauty, of which I am certain, you must have.

So, there goes a pathetic excuse for an introduction – Once a while ago, I was a dark wizard, who was enough of an idiot, to follow a power thirsty fool to the bowels of hell. Thus, I am in here now, in this nasty hole.

I am not allowed to give you my name (this sorry rules spoil everything) my lady, so you would have to decide how would you like to call me – honey, darling, dear, dushka, XXXX Pardon me, my lady, I got carried way. _**(Miss, we, the censor committee crossed some parts of the letter. We assessed it to be a clue to the prisoner's name)**_

You probably sensed, my lady – oh, by the way, now, after the formal introduction is behind us, may I please call you, _my angel_. Please, allow a miserable and lonely wizard to call you that. _Thank you_, _my angel – _again, as you probably noticed, I was not born on the foggy Island, you call your home, my angel. I was born far east from here, in the place where horizon is endless, the fields are ripe, and the forests are wild. One of the enchanted places, where the souls are given a free rein; where sunrises and sunsets are so magnificent as to render an observer speechless.

My angel and you truly are my angel, my only bright spark in this darkness, please – write to me. Do not reject the unwanted wizard, even though he might not deserve your thoughts – do not reject me, angel, please.

Tell me everything about you, my angel – the colour of your tresses, your eyes, and your skin. What books do you like to read, what music you like to listen, what colours sooth you and put at ease. (I tell you mine – amber and azure).

I will fall silent for now, my angel. Would you accept a little kiss – one may kiss an angel, there is nothing objectionable in it, right – except, that little angels always, always flying in nude? Sorry for this little tease my lady, the thoughts of having you (as a pen pal, that is) brought a tremendous amount of joy into my heart. I am being silly; I know. Forgive me, my lady, my nude angel.

Yours, duskaXXXXX_**(Miss, we, the censor committee crossed some parts of the letter. We assessed it to be a clue to the prisoner's name)**_

P.S. I put my lips over the kisses below, put your lips to them and you might have a surprise, just write the same characters and send some next time, and maybe a drop or two of your cologne, natural or not. Sorry again, if I offended you.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()KISS-KISS-KISS-KISS-KISS()()()()()()()()()()()()()

A/N. Please review comments, they are welcome. Remember the letter was written by Savva,

Next Chapter, visit to Azkaban. Enemies on the prowl, danger to all, love is in the air.

Sorry for the delay, I have been sick for almost a month with a nasty bug.


	3. Azkaban field trip, cupid messes up

**Disclaimer**; All Harry Potter characters, locations, and other recognizable places and people are the wonderful creations and brain children of a master quill: Ms. **J.K.R**. I write as a form of personal punishment. I do not get paid for this quasi-writing. The story is mine; respect and don't steal it. I like to play with her toys. If you are a minor, thanks but no thanks, please leave this page immediately. This story contains material not suitable for minors.

**Notes:** **THIS IS FICTION, a product of the imagination. It is A/U. Conforms to all the books and DH with some changes. EWE. And of course introduces new characters, of sorts.**

**I have been out of sorts. I hope this longer chapter pleases the few readers out there. Much thanks to Savva, it is also her story. She is Antonin's voice and quill.**

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* * *

**

**Last time.**

I will fall silent for now, my angel. Would you accept a little kiss – one may kiss an angel, there is nothing objectionable in it, right – except, that little angels always, always flying in nude? Sorry for this little tease my lady, the thoughts of having you (as a pen pal, that is) brought a tremendous amount of joy into my heart. I am being silly; I know. Forgive me, my lady, my nude angel.

Yours, duska _**(Miss, we, the censor committee crossed some parts of the letter. We assessed it to be a clue to the prisoner's name)**_

P.S. I put my lips over the kisses below, put your lips to them and you might have a surprise, just write the same characters and send some next time, and maybe a drop or two of your cologne, natural or not. Sorry again, if I offended you.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()KISS-KISS-KISS-KISS-KISS()()()()()()()()()()()()()

* * *

**A while back at a Dacha by the Baltic Sea**

Late 1999.

Maria, Antonin's youngest sister had observed activity in the Dacha belonging to Anton. They were all situated close to each other, sharing a tall fence around them, and a few other things. The property was unplotted, occupying a large stretch of prime real estate.

Since the first day she saw lights, she went calling. However, every time she knocked at the garden gate nobody came to answer. After one week, she decided to use a door not known by Anton. It was a secret trap door hidden by bushes. All their houses had them. They were built during the Bolsheviks Revolution, as means to escape. There were half-bloods who joined the Revolution to the great shame of their fellow wizards, and the need to protect their own became a priority. Therefore, all their property was equipped with both magic and non magic escape routes.

She came in to the darkened house, and the stench of illness filled her nose. Right on the middle of the kitchen was the body of Anton Minsk, her half brother, spread on the floor. He was extremely pale, and when she touched his neck, he was feverish warm, and alive.

Marushka's husband had been killed a few months after her wedding. He was killed by a muggle bullet. She had decided to stay alone. During the war, none of her close family had fought, other than her two brothers. And now Antonin was in prison for crimes mostly committed by Anton.

She was a healer and nursed him for days. He had so many injuries, that even with magic healing it took him several months to even start talking. His body had all the indications of having gone through severe torture more than once. He had been hit by a few dark spells during the battles cross fires, and those took a long time to heal.

He was a man of a few words, but Marushka kept talking to him about his sad childhood, and how it had made her mad; she also filled him with snippets of daily living gossip and so on. She read for him all the classics, which he seemed to enjoy. Surprisingly, he loved the Chekov humor the best. He loved all books about Husars and their loves; she found hard to reconcile this romantic wizard with the Dark Eater he had become.

She kept coming for nearly two months before he said much. After a while, she closed her home and stayed over. It happened one day when she came early in the morning with her two dogs; the dogs were growling and ready to attack when they all heard blood curling screams coming from his room. She pulled out her wand, and shushed the large hounds, and proceeded with caution.

She carefully opened the door; the dogs sniffed the air, and wagged their tails, no danger. Marushka found him in the midst of a nightmare, he was trashing and crying. When she woke him up, he could not stop trembling, and looked vulnerable and scared. He asked her to stay in the room for a while, and she held his hand until he went to sleep while she sang an old folk song they all used to enjoy when they were young.

Tears of sadness for all the wasted lives wet her face. In the nightmares, he kept calling for his mother, and screaming in fear at the man who she used to call father. He was also screaming in terror to the Cruciatus his Dark Master had inflicted upon on all his followers. He might be a bad man, but he was her brother. He was also the key to get her beloved Antonin out Azkaban.

She had known for long that the child, who came to here home, had often been beaten and tortured by her sick father.

So many lives injured. So many monsters created by cruel parents. A few days later, another witch came to live with them. She was to help her with her sick half brother. Lidia was a Muggle born witch, trained to be a healer; Maria had found her injured near their home. She was escaping Death Eaters and had barely got away with her life.

_**

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**_

_**Trip to Azkaban**_.

The group of six visitors and ten Aurors met at the Ministry the day before. They were to be briefed by specialists in order to be given instruction in preparation for the event.

Upon their arrival at the ministry, they met several reporters who were waiting for them. The program receiving maximal attention had been published in most of the local and international media. Anything involving a 'famous' from the recent war was sure to be newsworthy.

Three reporters had been selected to go with the group, and had security clearance for the assignment. At the last minute, Rita Skeeter had become sick with a strange virus that made her all spotty, and feverish. The replacement was a dour new reporter, with a sallow complexion, nearly bald with a few sparse blond hairs, who complained constantly.

One of the Aurors going was Harry, who was opposed to the plan, afraid of the possible things that could go wrong. The witches and a pretty Austrian reporter-witch were told to dress in serious business robes, easy to take off for the search, and to dress warmly. No Muggle clothes should be worn because they might attract unwarranted attention, as if their mere presence was not enough.

Besides some other tips, such as having to leave their wands behind, they were briefed on everything, from arriving, to going to the loo. Departure was scheduled for 8:00 AM via Port Key. The travel time was long, over two hours, with two stops.

**Getting there**

Hermione and her friends, all opted for winter cloaks, high neck jumpers, worn with Muggle equestrian boots. They wore some make up, and no jewellery as advised. Good idea no knowing what Luna might show up with. Hermione had her hair loose; with two dull wooden sticks holding a few curly strands away from the face. She looked quite beautiful as per the appraisal of Lucius, Harry, and several Wizards.

Harry was furious at Hermione's initiative, and blamed her for his coming marriage to Ginny. He wished he had chosen her over Ginny before and right after the war. He had been attracted to Ginny's beauty, once that novelty wore off, oh well. He saw his role as a victim, and refused to be responsible for his own actions.

Once in Azkaban, they were cleared for admission; and brought directly into the new library, where the meeting of representatives would be conducted.

Lucius could not take his eyes away from the young witch. He did not understand why he had not seen her beauty before now. Antonin was smarter; he had seen the potential of a less conventional, sensual beauty, and he had gone for it. Draco had been equally smart; however, Lucius had seen with the tainted filter of prejudice. He had to talk to his contact to talk about sitting arrangement.

Hermione, Luna, and Trace waited with anticipation. True they had fought against death eaters, but time has a way to change our perceptions. They were intensely involved in the prison reform program, and saw their roles as the saviours of wizards that had lost their way. They were young and romantic at heart; plus all were nursing wounds from failed relationships; and each hope of finding a romantic tortured soul, to help and to rescue.

**The meeting, some hearts fluttered-**

The ministry group sat in a table facing a row of chairs. The Aurors stood back behind the group, wands were inside a pouch sewn into their clothing, but their hands were holding them, ready to attack. They also carried a state of the art Muggle weapon, magically modified. It would only discharge for the wizard that it had been designed for.

There was one inside the room, waiting to see one of the inmates; and would try to kill him if the chance was presented. Carrying the poison dart thrower had not been easy. The dart was coated with a magical version of curare. The dart was charmed to disappear upon striking, and the poison would not leave a trace.

The four government prison Administrators arrived first followed by two of the spiritual healers, and two of the paid professors, and two of the voluntary professors. One was Rabastan Lestrange, and the other Pucey Sr. They both smiled at Lucius, whose heart warmed at this threat. His dear friends, he had been working to get them released.

Rabastan had been a victim of Beatrix Lestrange. Crazy witch had made him get the dark mark but holding baby Draco hostage, with a wand right to his baby heart. She had used dark magic to gain Rodolphus heart. He had been in a coma for six months after the battle. When he woke up he hardly remembered the years with her. An appeal had been put for the two brothers he was hoping it would be over fast. Pucey had been little more than a financial backer. His wife was raped and nearly killed to make him join; she had died few days after. He expected his soon release, Cupid Lucius would match his letter with a good witch.

Fourteen guards lined the walls, cameras were shooting. The cameras had been left at the ministry, and thoroughly inspected and checked for physical or magical weapons, charms etc. Harry had carried them and passed them to each of the reporters.

Finally, for the awaited moment, the prisoners came in. They were all allowed to wear issued dark woollen jumpers, and trousers resembling the heavy indigo cloth of the Muggle trousers. They had been allowed an extra visit to the magical-barber, and access to extra personal cleaning supplies.

Hermione was looking at the group with apprehension. They were tall, and handsome, of course, the three witches looked at each other with some glee.

Was that Greg Goyle no, it could not be, Greg must have lost quite a bit of weight, he looked fine with the hair a little longer. Tracey could not take her eyes away from him, and he was also looking at the four, his eyes feasting on all the pretty females in front of him. Two Aurors, one reporter, and three witches, he would later thank Herb for recommending him for this program.

The three witches tried to remember that they were not here to flirt, but to establish a good program, and they did not get to choose their pen-pal, for the program "Write Azkaban a letter of hope." The three were mentally replacing the end with a _letter of love_.

As the witches looked at the five dark wizards, every wizard's eyes made as stop on one of the three attractive witches, some with more, and some with less interest, and some would glance around to the other witches.

Harry was looking at the Austrian witch. She had almost his exact hair and eye colour, but her eyes were very large and almond shape, she must be Eurasian, he thought, _what a beauty_.

He mad a mental note to talk to her later. Kirsten was her name; she wore the hair very short. This was not a bad idea; they would have this trip four more times, not bad. How pretty, she also chewed the quilt exactly like Mione. Must be a witch's thing_. Never mind,_he thought, _scratch that thought_after he saw at least one wizard chewing a quill_._

Lucius was staring at Hermione, quite irritated by the way, she was looking at the incomers. He should call it success but it was irking him by the minute. He did not understand why he was getting upset. He wanted her to see Antonin, did he not? Since he had been a toddler, he had problems with sharing, or wanting to have something others have. Abraxas used to joke that a good way to interest Lucius on something was to give it to someone else.

The second wizard was Theodore Nott, he was still slender, and wore his hair longer, he had less than one year to go; however, his mother was not well and wanted her son out. She saw his joining the program as a means. He had liked the smart Ravenclaw witch, Lovegood, even if she had been a little odd. Of course, he fancied the princess Lioness a whole lot, everyone did.

Yes, as he looked at the group in front of him, his heart was very glad to see the witch of his dreams here at the prison. What was she doing here? What happiness, he laughed inside and remembered the day when he met her. She gave him a small smile. Nobody noticed.

In the middle, standing tall and aristocratic was Antonin. He looked quite well, availing himself to the new indoor sports, and teaching classes to the younger wizards. He was a favourite amongst many. Many commented how much younger he looked now than at the war. Of course, he was younger; there were two of him, hello. He was really a twin of Anton with less of a haunted look, and his eyes were clear and not shifty, he had a head full of hair, and his skin was hardly aged.

Hermione's eyes did a double take. He was not that beautiful at the Department of Prophecy. She would never forget him. He had nearly killed her with the cutting spell. Had he grown one or two inches? Prison life must be agreeing with him. His hair was fuller and longer, worn it tied, and looked as her pictures of the princes in the Tolstoy balls. He was broader that her memories. She wished they could exchange some thoughts/

She remembered the masked dark eater who had saved her time after time, the one who saved Remus from him, and saved Tonks as well. The way he moved, but no, how could have he saved Remus from himself. She remembered when he pushed Fred away from the explosion, the stance and the reddish hair, it had to be him. She kept shaking her head in denial, what was she thinking?

This must be what they call 'lust at first sight', darn if she did not feel warm under his apprising eyes. He reminded her of Fenrir, hungry as a wolf came to mind. Ridiculous, all the room had disappeared in front of her. Aggh, she needed a good lay. Too many months without any kind of release, no wonder about Ron; he must be right. She was thinking of looking Ron up and maybe reconsidering her stand. She might tell Lucius she needed to get out the program and look Ron up.

Lucius was looking at Hermione's reaction, and for an unknown reason, it filled him up with joy. The nasty selfish feelings all gone, replaced by the love for his family, as it was often the case.

Looking back at Antonin, and seeing his younger cousin's face, made him happy. Antonin have been seventeen when he had recruited him. He was thirty eight now and looking very fine. If he had been a Muggle, he would have appeared as a man in his late twenties. He wanted to keep his promise, and would try. Time would tell.

Antonin could not take another step. She looked as beautiful as he remembered her. He looked at her face, but his eyes wondered to her breast, and her wider hips. She was slender, not wasted, a healthy toned figure. Her woollen knitted robes, draped her nice. Not too revealing yet he could see her fine figure. He was forgetting they had jumpers no robes. And soon he would not even be able to walk if he kept imaging the lithe witch in his arms.

He forgot where he was, Lucius had been dangling the Hermione-Carrot, for too long in front of his eyes, and now he wished he could go across the table, embrace her and tell her that he was a wizard in love.

**Love-love-love in on the air, and murder too. **

"Antonin, Greg, Theo, good to see you again. I am glad; you were selected by the Administration to be the representatives what a surprise. We have but a few minutes to present the plan, and we must leave. We have been informed this is not a party." He paused to let everyone laugh. "But it is a happy occasion, one more feather in the pretty cap of our heroine for reforms, Ms. Hermione Granger."

Everyone broke in applause, well everyone but the guards and the Aurors, they had to keep their hands on their wands, or their weapons.

The inmates, selected for their comportment were introduced to the three witches, and the Azkaban stuff. Lestrange, held Ms. Lovegood's hand a little too long. And finally gave her a small kiss on the back of hand. She blushed and lowered her eyes. She reminded him of a nymph he had bedded in the forests near their summer home at France. She blushed nicely. He wondered if she had nice a nice bosom and rose colour nips. She was a bon-bon.

Time for a little wandless magic, and make sure his letter would go to her. He waved his hand, releasing zero into the air. Things he had learned to survive. He just placed a choose-me charm to make Lucius want to choose his letter for her. It was a cheap shot but Lestrange's magic never failed.

Antonin, embolden by Rabastan, followed his moves with Hermione. So, in a formal, gallant gesture, gave her a not so formal kiss on her hand. Just with his mouth opened a tiny bit, he wanted to taste her. He licked her skin with the tip of his tongue. The response was embarrassing and wonderful at once. The contact produced multicoloured sparks around her hand where his lips had touched. She turned an array of the red palette; he smiled rakishly. His tongue was on fire, she tasted of his witch. He was hungry for her.

He was glad to sit down, he was sure some of the wizards must have noticed his problem, but no, everyone was busy looking at the witches, or the pretty Aurors. One of the counsellors could not take his eyes away from Hermione. Not that she noticed. The reporters all sensed the connection, and fired away with the cameras, well knowing the sparks might be recorded.

Antonin did not make an easy target for the rest of the presentation. During the time it was left the rules of engagement for the letter exchange were explained. The assassin was looking for the correct angle. Antonin kept squirming and moving uncomfortably hard.

Lucius whispered in the ear of one flustered Hermione Granger,

"Antonin seems eager for the program; he is smart. I know you have issues with him, but how about if he is our coordinator? Do you mind? It is your program. I will be the one talking to him, unless you want to do it in occasion." Lucius fingers were crossed. He closed his eyes. "Yes, it is a good idea." She whispered back, and immediately regretted it.

She must be too forgiving; the man had helped Bellatrix to do the cruciatus hex on the Longbottoms. But what if the wizard had told the truth during the trials and there was another who looked like him, and should be the one rotting here?

After a few more minutes, it was time to go. The administrative assistant to the Head of the prison passed the first group of letters to Lucius. He knew they would be specially marked. He made a show of it.

"Being that, we have in here three lovely witches who will be joining the pen pal group," Lucius stop when he saw the hands of the two aurors, and of the Austrian reporter raised their hand, darn he would have to give them a letter, and he had some other commitments. "Hmmm," clearing his throat to think, he could accommodate some additional requests sweet. "Hmm, I will give each of them the letter of their pen-pals?"

Harry asked, "why not to all of them. I mean to our three lovely additions to the program. I thought it would be random, and the letters all have been checked for charm, hexes and even content."

Lucius felt cornered and said. "Ah, I see your point; however, the three ladies first must first sign up for the program, a minimal background check is done in each participant. I will do that today, upon coming back. And before we disband, I will give them their letters. Is that agreeable Mr. Potter?" Lucius was mad at Potter for being a busybody, he was not sure if an hour or less would buy him any time. Worth a try, he guessed.

"Sounds agreeable, I understand all about having to fill forms to go to the loo." Harry had one his rare comedian moments. Everyone laughed at that. After all, working for the Ministry meant filling forms to scratch your arse.

Dramatically Lucius announced, as planned, "I will just put my hand inside the bag, and see what comes out for Ms. Lovegood."

He felt around for the magically bump that would activate with his words, and there his hand went straight for the letter from Nott.

He did the same for Ms. Davies, and last for Hermione. She was hoping it was Antonin's, and would have liked to cheat for once in her life.

"And here is yours Ms. Granger. Maybe she would like to share a first paragraph?" asked Lucius with mischief in his voice.

She declined with a laugh, "Maybe it is of romantic nature, and we would not want to share such personal missive." She had blushed to a light red shade.

Antonin was thinking _if you only knew_. "You might be right," Lucius hoped that it was not too intense. He was going to like this role. Lucius the Good, spreading cheer and love. At least that is how he saw himself, at least for now. That was one of his traits.

He was a born leader. And boy did the Dark Wizard love to dispense good things to the ones he cared for. Plus he loved adulation, and others needing him, it made him feel magnanimous. His ego fed in admiration and in adoration. It was the only way to get him out of his selfish mode. His father, who died too soon, was the only who knew that, and was able to teach him some good lessons. Probably the reason he could not follow the Dark Lord in the end. Lucius believed in buying love, and admiration, he knew punishment just made others hate you.

They said their goodbyes, and love was on the air, murder was too.

**Hermione,**

Back at the office after the meeting, there had not been any protracted goodbyes, no kisses on the hand, the security protocol was enhanced. No last minute contact, any chances for a last minute mishap. She did look at Antonin, whose eyes were on fire, she could recognize an emotion, was it love? No, it could not be.

Her mind was in turmoil when she went back to her office to read the missive, she could not wait. She needed to hurry up. In an hour, she had another date to see Draco. She was happy about that as well.

She entered the office and started reading the letter. After a paragraph, she let a happy giggle escape her lips. They had scratched his name, and other clues he must have left. She recognized the word dushka, a Russian endearment. One lucky witch, she had Antonin. Her heart soared with joy. YAY. As she read some more, desire travelled her body wreaking chaos, she needed to shag. That was certain of that fact. Call Ron? He had been right, or had he? Wait the kiss, it was silly and cute.

She brought the letter to her face, and immediately she felt a presence. She touched the letters he had written, and she received a jolt, it actually sparkled magic. Was it legal? In any case, a frisson of desire made double rounds, and the clenching of her lower regions made her arch her back. What on earth had happened?

Back in Azkaban, Antonin closed his eyes when he felt her fingers touching his face. He submerged himself in the feeling. She put her lips over the word KiSS, and at Azkaban he lightly opened his lips and pressed them against her moist soft lips. His body went hard with expectation. He let out a moan. She tasted of glory, and then – nothing, the kiss stopped too soon.

At her office, she dropped the letter as if it were on fire. Then, she touched her lips with wonderment. His lips had been on hers. The fox, he had done something beyond her abilities. Was it dark magic? She was too distressed to try it again. She would give it another go; at her home later. Her fingers touched her lips once more and she smiled. Wondering how much more could be done through the letters. He was a good kisser.

She wanted to see Remus and Tonks; and hear their story once more. She hoped wolf-wizard was not there, meaning Fenrir. He had turned around in the midst of the battle. Nobody knew why, but after the masked stranger saved Remus once, he saved him yet once more. Not only him, had also saved Bill Weasley and Fleur, who he called a big chicken. He explained it was on the Harpy account. It turned out, during the trials, that Voldemort had his mate and 5 pups held on captivity to force him to fight for him. He was actively working to recruit his 'cubs' into his pack. He gave Hermione the creeps.

When she left, an intruder entered her office. Then looked for something; she must have taken the letter. Antonin must die. He knew too much, he had done too much wrong. Kill him and make him pay. And if Granger knew anything, she must also die.

**Lucius, Cupid at present**

Lucius went into his office, and looked at the letters, and to his horror he noticed that he still had Nott's letter. Whose letter had he given to Lovegood? He would soon find out. She had the code for the writer, and he had not copied it being sneaky, that had been a bad mistake.

What a mess, what if he had given Antonin's letter to someone else; he needed to see Miss. Granger. Operation Lucid was failing. Hope nobody had noticed he had failed to annotate the code names of the writers, before handing out the letter, he totally forgot, very careless of him.

He heard someone coughing to his left. He had a small area set for guests. A tall beautiful witch was sitting down waiting for him. It was his second cousin, Marushka, Antonin' half sister, she was five years older than her brother.

**

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**Next time,** Lucius, aka Lucid, the angel of love, gets immersed in his role; however, he is no angel, nope, Hermione's appeal makes him stray every other minute. It leads him to try to eliminate the competition. He is Lucius, not an angel by any measure.

He hears about Draco's intentions and nearly hexes his own son. Marushka has news for Lucius and a proposition. The assassin decides someone else "needs killing."

He is distributing letters, propositions galore. Hermione arranges to go with Lucius back in two days. The assassin needs to expand. He is doing his job so well that he is calling unwanted attention. Hermione hears from Ron.

Please review, I like to hear from you all. Let me know how we are doing.


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